Stars & Wind
by AstroPrincess
Summary: So little is known about the lives of the outer Sailor Guardians, especially that of Sailor Uranus. This fic follows her life prior to becoming a Sailor Guardian.
1. Chapter 1

Haruka crouched in the long grass behind her house, hoping her mother would not be able to see her, though she knew deep down that no one would come looking. She swiped at her eyes, trying, in vain, to remove the salty water from her cheeks. A lock of her long, blonde hair stuck to her damp, sticky fist, and she yanked at it, her misery turning to anger at the persistent reminder of who her mother wanted her to be.

A hand settled gently on her hunched shoulder, and Haruka whipped around, losing her balance and landing on her tailbone. Pain shot up her back and her breath seized. But not even a moment later she forgot about the pain.

The most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her life was standing before her. Her sweet blue eyes were wide with concern, and her perfume wafted delicately through the air between them. Then Haruka's eyes shifted up, to the woman's forehead, and she gasped again. A crescent-shaped birthmark shimmered there. She knew exactly who this woman was, even at the tender age of eight. There wasn't a person on the Moon who didn't.

Haruka discretely wiped her grimy hands on her shorts and sniffed, hoping her nose wasn't as snotty as it felt.

"What's wrong? Can I help you?" the queen asked, her voice upset. She was so close her golden locks fell over her bare shoulders and tickled Haruka's knees.

"Um. . ." she whispered. Indecision clawed at her insides. The truth sat on her tongue heavy as stones, caught in limbo with the fear she had carried for most of her young life.

"I . . ." she stared into the queen's kind eyes and felt a barrier in her heart give way. "I'm a girl," she whispered, " _and_ a boy . . . at the same time."

"I see," the queen murmured, smiling prettily. She reached out and ran feather-light fingertips along Haruka's cheekbone, collecting forgotten tears, and Haruka startled, unused to such gentle touch. There was such a strong, undiluted expression of sorrow in the queen's eyes, despite the lingering smile, that Haruka was instantly possessed with the desire to make it leave.

It wasn't until many years later that she realized what had caused the queen's grief, and why.

But at the time, wonder and naivety clouded her vision, and when the queen offered her a hand, she took it without question. She felt light, like her soul could spread feathery wings and fly. The queen didn't think any differently of her!

The queen helped her to her feet, and then, Haruka's hand still clasped in hers, said, "If I talk to your mother, would you like to come live with me?"

Haruka had never been so sure of anything in her life. Her mother expressed her volatile temper with ear-splitting screeches and slammed doors and raised hands, while everyone knew that Queen Serenity was kind and gentle and loving. But most importantly, she wasn't ashamed of Haruka's secret.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Call me Serenity," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Haruka was twelve years old. She was enjoying the perfect freedom she had to switch between boy and girl and sometimes someone in between. Her days were spend romping in the palace gardens, climbing the sturdy oaks, feeling the soft, green grass between her bare toes, and inhaling the sweet fragrance of each and every flower. The permanently starry sky glittered overhead, and sometimes Haruka lay eagle-spread in the grass, leaving her body behind to lose herself in those distant pinpricks of light, and feeling as though the universe was hers for the taking.

Today she was playing hide-and-seek with Little Serenity, Ami, Minako, Rei, and Makoto. They had played this game a million times before, but for the younger girls, it never got old. Haruka had volunteered to be "it" and she humored them by pretending not to hear their muffled giggles drifting through the air.

She tip-toed to a particularly large bush, blades of grass tickling her heels, and paused to listen. She could hear someone breathing, air passing quickly through the mouth of an excited girl. Smiling, she leapt around the side of the bush, ignoring the way the woodchips dug into her feet, and startled Minako, who was on the other side.

"Found you!" she exclaimed triumphantly and extended a hand to help Minako up.

Minako took it, then brushed woodchips off her skirt. She pouted when she saw Haruka was alone. "Am I the first one again?"

"Yep," Haruka grinned. "Now you get to help me find the others."

They found Rei next, who was squatting in a cobwebbed niche in the palace wall. Minako stood far back as Rei brushed the fibers from her dark hair, wrinkling her nose. "I hate spiders," Mina said. Rei waved a liberated cobweb in her face, and Minako shrieked.

Makoto was the third to be found, crouching in the branches of the big oak tree, and Ami was fourth, unusual because she had a knack for finding the best hiding spots. That just left Serenity.

Haruka listened hard, for Serenity was the noisiest of them all, and was sure to be giggling in glee to have outwitted them. But there was no childish laughter to be heard. Maybe if they looked inside the palace?

Then a scream split the still air, and Haruka's head whipped around.

 _The pond,_ she thought, and took off running, each foot just barely making contact with the ground before it was surging forward again. Her lungs, heart, legs were moving in perfect harmony, her body like a gust of wind. She pounded down the bank of the pond, spotting Serenity at once. Her white dress was caked in mud and her blue eyes were wide with terror, focused on the snake that had emerged, dripping, from the water. It was hissing, its fangs bared.

As if in slow motion, Haruka watched it lunge towards the princess. But she was faster than it was. In one supple motion, she scooped up a stick and hooked it underneath the snake, using her momentum to fling it away.

Both girls stood there shaking, Serenity from fear, Haruka from adrenalin, as time returned to its normal pace. Serenity stumbled into Haruka's arms, burying her face in the older girl's shirt.

"Shh," Haruka soothed her, pressing her cheek into Serenity's golden hair. She inhaled the scent of soap and grass that clung to her, the comforting smell of youth and innocence. Haruka felt a particular fierceness in her heart, a sort of fearlessness that could possess her to take on a snake, or any foe, to protect Serenity.

She didn't yet know how to put this strange new feeling into words, so instead she said, "Come on. Let's go inside."

The other girls had caught up and were standing bunched in a knot on the shore, eyes scared and uncertain. It was only when Serenity took her first step that the spell was broken, and they rushed forward to hug and comfort her. The four formed a ring with the princess in the middle, Haruka left on the outside. Though it was a solitary place to be, she knew she was still wanted, which created another strange feeling, a push and pull inside her chest.

It was a feeling that she would one day become familiar with.


	3. Chapter 3

The princess and her band of mischief-makers were now sixteen years old and had long outgrown hide and seek. Now they read books and raced barefoot in the gardens and ventured outside the palace gates. When they got hungry, they picked swollen, sun-warmed fruit from the orchard, and ate it right there in the grass, juice running down their chins. They were like any other group of teenage girls – despite living in a castle – and that included seeking out adventure.

Overlying all the games and mischief, laughter and arguments, was a shadow, and Haruka knew something dark was coming. Recently, the queen had had more meetings with her advisors and Earthen representatives than she'd ever before. Lilac shadows began to appear beneath Serenity's eyes and faint wrinkles constantly creased her forehead, though her beauty and patience remained undiminished.

It frustrated Haruka to no end that Serenity would not confide in him. Haruka was nineteen, an adult. He could handle the information, he could perhaps even help! But every time he tried to bring up the subject, Serenity brushed it away or changed the topic.

He tried again one autumn evening, cornering his adoptive mother on her favorite terrace, which gave a nearly uninterrupted view of the city sprawled beneath them. As a child, Haruka had loved the balcony too, lying eagle-spread on the tiled floor to lose himself in the inky darkness of space, imagining the stars to be close enough to touch.

"Serenity," he said, shaking off the memories and straightening his posture. He gone through a growth spurt a few years ago, and now stood taller than the queen. "I want to help. I know what you're going to say," he said, as Serenity's mouth opened. "That I'm too young. But I might be able to help. I'm strong. I'm resourceful. I love this family more than anything, and I want to fight for you." His hands curled into fists. He found he was a little short of breath.

Serenity was silent for a long moment, surveying Haruka wearily. The tension swelled between them, but so did the hope. Maybe this would be the time she said yes.

The answer was flat and sharp, rupturing his hope.

"No," Serenity said. "And that's the last time I'll say it. Haruka, I love you, and I love our family too, but I also love this kingdom." She gestured to the city beneath them: the stacked-stone houses, the winding roads, the open-air markets, the bustling people. Haruka looked, but he didn't see what Serenity did. Until he'd met Serenity, he was shunned and disliked simply because he was different. The city's people had driven him away, and he was supposed to love them?

"One day you'll understand the responsibility I have." Serenity said the words gently, but they still stung. "They are all deserving of love and protection, and whenever I make a decision, I have to take them into consideration also. They are my children, my brothers and sisters, my aunts and uncles and grandparents." She tried to smile comfortingly. "Just like you are my child."

"No," Haruka spat, tears blurring his vision. "I'm nothing like them." Memories flashed through his mind. All the years of bullying, of loneliness, of fear. His biological mother screaming, enraged at him for not adhering to her definition of normal. There were a hundred variations of this memory, and in that terrible moment, he remembered all of them, all at once.

His breath tore from his lungs in ragged gasps, and he ran from the room, trying to escape Serenity, his tears, his memories. His feet pounded down the spiraling staircase, taking the steps three at a time. He flew through the gilded halls of the palace, heaving open the back door and letting it slam shut behind him. For the first time, his eyes were blind to the beauties of the palace gardens, but that didn't matter. All he knew was that every step he took made it a little easier to breathe, and so when he spotted the iron-wrought gate that divided his paradise from the rest of the world, he just increased his speed and tensed his muscles. With the help of a strategic foothold, he leapt the gate easily. If one had so much as blinked, they would have missed him.

For the first time in eleven years, Haruka had left the palace walls, just like that. Though the girls sometimes visited the market, he never went with them. The memories were too strong.

Something about the ease of it perturbed him. He felt as though there should be a stronger barrier between his life now and the one he had left behind long ago. The unease was strong enough to dispel the worst of the tears. But he hadn't cooled down enough yet to return home. No, not yet.

Haruka continued to run through the streets, though now at an easier pace, one he could maintain. He kept to the shadows and side streets, wanting to avoid as many people as possible. _Just a little longer_ , he thought, seeing people hurrying towards home as night began to fall. _Then I'll turn back._

But Haruka kept running. He didn't want to go home. His mind was blank, all troublesome thoughts wiped away by the wind, which made his mouth numb and his eyes sting. He had drifted to that soft, starlit space between fantasy and reality that motion always brought him to. He had not been there long before something pulled him out of his dream state as suddenly and undeniably as ice water splashed on his face.

Music twining through the crisp, sparkling air.

The melody was saccharine-sweet, filled with yearning. And when there was periodically a note that was tugged out of tune, it just added the slightest hint of bite, like a berry that was not quite ripe. The music had soul, and it touched Haruka's heart.

His pace slowed to an uncertain stop. His feet, usually placed with such diligent care, were now neglected in favor of his ears, and simply became a means of drawing him towards the music.

He hesitantly emerged from the dark street into a nearly empty town square. The fountain centerpiece was round and reaching, made of dense stone and elaborately carved. Before it stood a girl: the sole occupant of the square, and also the musician.

A violin was perched, feather-light, on her collarbone. The flux of her slender wrist manipulating the bow had the fluidity of water. Her eyes were closed, dusky eyelashes fluttering against full cheeks, allowing Haruka to watch her shamelessly.

Any outsider might only see a young man and woman standing mere feet away from each other, still as the stone fountain. They wouldn't notice the tiny movements of the starlit water, of the girl's cream dress and teal hair, of the boy's soft eyes and leaping, tizzied heartbeat. But Haruka noticed them all, for each and every one of them fell under the thrall of the music, as if it were fate and they were all subject to its whims and fancies.

He was not sure how much time had passed before the movement of the violinist's wrist ceased. Her position – eyes closed, arms arched – did not change until the echoes of the final, heart-wrenching note had faded from the night.

Her body relaxed, unfurling like the leaves of a flower reaching for the sun. Then her eyes fell on Haruka, and her mouth rounded with surprise. She took a tiny step back, the neck of the violin held tightly in a white-knuckled fist. He flushed, simultaneously embarrassed and bashful, finding it hard to maintain eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just . . . I really liked the song."

If he'd been able to look at her, he would have seen a similar blush blossom across her cheeks and ears at his words. Her muscles released their tension, leaving her violin dangling loosely from her fingers.

"Thank you," she breathed. Haruka looked up, and their eyes locked. Her irises were a heady, rich umber. They were not the color of space, a pure, fathomless darkness. They were the color of loam, of earth, of life and a thousand possibilities.

Haruka opened his mouth, feeling those possibilities well up on his tongue. What he would say, he didn't yet know.

And due to some unfortunate timing, he would never find out.

"Michiru!" A distant, shrill woman called, and the girl turned in response, breaking eye contact.

"Coming!" was her response, and disappointment burrowed into Haruka's bones. With a start, he remembered his reason for being here, in a strange place with a strange girl. The argument with Serenity. The tears. The jump over the palace gate. He needed to get home.

The girl – Michiru – turned to him, her blue hair swaying. "I'm sorry," she said. Her eyes were alight with life: energy, curiosity, and a little bit of mystery. "I have to go."

Haruka nodded. "Good night," he said, hoping desperately this was not the last time he would say those words to her.

"Good night," she said, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

That was enough to soothe the rawness inside of him. Haruka exhaled in release and smiled shyly back.

It was time to go home.


	4. Chapter 4

As was to be expected, Serenity wasn't happy that he had stayed out so late. She had scolded him when he'd gotten home, and Haruka knew she would keep an eye on him until she was satisfied that he was back to his usual rule-abiding self. Still feeling guilty for scaring her, he stayed out of trouble and spent the week with Ami, Makoto, Rei, Minako, and Princess Serenity.

For the week that followed, Haruka was more liable than usual to slip into a daydream, reliving that night over and over again. Chipped, dirty cobblestone. The sparkling sound of water falling back onto itself. Tightly packed buildings that could not quite crowd out the stars and wind. The music, always the music. And of course, the girl, at the center of it all.

He knew it was unlikely he'd ever see her again, or hear her violin sing, but he couldn't let go of the hope that maybe he _would_. The encounter felt, he thought, inconclusive. Like a story without an ending. Whether he got an ending or not remained to be seen.

* * *

Soon enough, it was time for the girls' weekly market trip. After months of inviting Haruka only to be turned down, the sisters knew that there was simply no point in asking him. But despite his extreme dislike of the city, Haruka felt compelled to meet them at the door before they left. He arrived and found only four teenage girls chattering and donning boots and jackets.

"Where's Serenity?" he asked, frowning slightly. The princess loved market days. She always came home glowing, with bags of chocolates and a collection of stories to share.

"You know how the Earth king arrived yesterday?" Mako asked him, and he nodded, wondering what that had to do with anything. "He brought his son with him."

"Apparently Serenity has a thing for boys with black hair and blue eyes," Rei drawled, smirking. She flipped her sleek, raven-dark hair over her shoulder. "He has no idea what's he in for."

"Isn't it romantic?" Mina gushed.

Haruka gaped. The prince of Earth? Sure, he'd arrived yesterday, but Serenity had never even met him! And wasn't he old?

"Breathe Haruka," Rei teased, tugging on his elbow. Mischief danced in her eyes. "It'll all be okay. Serenity may be all grown up now, but _we're_ still as immature and irresponsible as ever."

The girls laughed, and Haruka couldn't help but smile.

"Come with us," Mako suggested, smiling invitingly. "Get it off your mind."

"Yeah, you've already left the palace once this week," Ami said. "How about a second visit?"

Mina nodded vigorously, still overjoyed about Serenity's crush. Rei looked at him, the remnants of mirth still lingering on her face, and smiled invitingly.

And to his own disbelief, he nodded. Mina whooped.

"And now that you can't back out," she said, "You have to tell us all about your midnight adventure."

"How do you know about that?" he gaped. The girls just laughed. He couldn't stop his cheeks from heating, but nevertheless, he pulled on his shoes and followed them out the door.

* * *

To put market day simply, it was chaos. Wooden booths were stacked nearly on top of each other and lined both sides of the streets. They were decorated with sturdy, colorful swaths of cloth and handwritten signs. They sold everything imaginable, from sweets to trinkets to watercolor sketches. The air was filled with the sound of children laughing and customers haggling with vendors and friends shouting to each other over the din. People pressed in close to him on either side, and children brushed past his legs.

Haruka had not been to market day since he was a child, and though much had changed, the feeling of claustrophobia was the same as he'd remembered it. The unease and the uncertainty. Every time he began to feel overwhelmed, Mina was shoving a confectionary into his hand to sample, or Ami was explaining a mystifying contraption to him.

But finally, his nerves had had enough, and he separated himself from the crowd, retreating down a side street.

The buildings that dwelled here were tall and stately, and utterly alien to him. He felt the hairs on his neck prickle, and turned to see a young girl watching him. She was sitting beneath a tree, her eyes dark and unreadable. Her hair, dark as pitch, framed her pale, thin face. It made him uncomfortable to say the least, and he hastened his pace to get past her. Trying to dispel his unease, he clung to his relief on having escaped market day, but he didn't truly relax until he'd turned the corner.

Soon enough, he'd put the strange incident out of his mind, and one structure in particular caught his attention. It was less ornate than the others, squat and sprawling. Ancient Lunar runes were inscribed above the ebony doors, illegible to him, yet compelling all the same. The leaded windows were arched and graceful, sweeping nearly to the ground, though white, gauzy curtains fluttered against the far side of the glass, preserving the privacy of the people within. But as a breath of air moved a curtain aside, Haruka caught a glimpse of what lay inside.

Books. Shelves upon shelves of books.

As realization hit him, so did something else. Something tangible. Haruka jumped, more startled than hurt, though his hand instinctively flew to his arm anyways.

"Oops," a girl said, her eyes wide with surprise. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," Haruka said, smiling politely. The girl was about his age, with sleek, dark hair and brown skin. It was easy to see how she'd collided into him: she cradled a stack of books in her arms, her chin digging into the topmost tome to steady the precarious arrangement.

"Can I help you?" he asked awkwardly, trying to hide his uncertainty.

"Sure," she said, her lips curving into a small but grateful smile. The surprise had faded from her face, leaving behind a look of good humor.

He returned the smile, feeling self-conscious, and gently slid several books from her stack. The girl's posture instantly relaxed, the remaining books in her grasp shifting comfortably to the curve of her hip. She swept up the stairs to the library, Haruka following a hesitant half-step behind.

Inside, the rows and rows of tall, wooden bookshelves made the room seem infinite. Autumn sunlight, supple and golden, illuminated the dancing dust motes and made the spines of the books appear soft and velvet. The air was still, a polar opposite to the rushing wind Haruka loved so much, but somehow it didn't feel suffocating. It was filled with the scent of old paper and dust. He had the thought that this was what knowledge smelled like.

"Thanks for your help," the girl said, setting the books down on a sturdy, opposing wooden desk, and skirting around to the other side. Was she a librarian? That would explain all the books . . .

"I'm Setsuna," she said.

"Haruka," Haruka said, stacking his share of the books beside hers. "I think I'll be going now."

"So soon?" she asked, smiling warmly.

"Yes, I – my sisters – they're probably waiting for me," Haruka said. This was exactly why he didn't go into the city: uncomfortable situations like these.

"Ah. Well, maybe I'll see you around."

"Yeah, maybe," Haruka said, smiling politely again. Setsuna was nice, but he had no intention of coming back to the city anytime soon.

"Bye," she called, as he retreated to the massive front doors. "And thanks again!"

"Of course," he said, before the door closed firmly between them.


	5. Chapter 5

"Haruka?" It was Serenity, lovely as ever, though the stress was plain on her face.

Haruka rose from her spot on the grass, where she'd been listening to the girls' conversation about the Earthen prince, Endymion. The princess had barely stopped gushing about him since he'd left the moon a couple of days ago, and Mina was all too happy to indulge her.

"Can we talk, please?" Serenity asked, and Haruka nodded in response.

Haruka followed Serenity across the garden to the pond, out of earshot of the girls. The long grasses twining up from the pebbly shore waved delicately through the air, and the wind scudding across the water left rippling echoes in its wake. Flashes of silver caught her eye as the sun hit the tiny fish at precisely the right angle. The sound of rustling leaves lined her ears, and the shadows of the great trees shaded her sight.

It was beautiful, and Haruka was grateful for it all. She felt a rush of love for Serenity for giving this life to her. Leaving the palace so hastily last week had been wrong, she knew that.

But despite that, she couldn't bring herself to regret meeting the violinist.

"Haruka," Serenity began. She was looking out across the water to where the girls were laughing together. There was a tiny furrow between her brows, as if she was solving a mathematical equation in her head. "I need you to promise you'll never disappear like you did last week. I need to know that I can trust you."

"I promise." Haruka balled her fists in her lap. Was Serenity finally going to tell her what was happening?

They fell silent for a moment, and Haruka's curiosity felt as if it was going to burn her up from the inside out. But instead of asking again, she kept quiet. She didn't want to start another fight, not now.

Finally, Serenity found her words. Her voice was hollow, like part of her still couldn't quite believe it.

"There is going to be a war."

The world held its breath. The tranquil scenery of the gardens was pushed out of Haruka's mind, replaced by shock and white noise. War. _War_. Such a tiny word, but it held the images of blood and steel, screams and nightmares. Shattered dreams and fractured families.

She realized, numbly, that Serenity had wrapped her arms around her, as though she could hide them from this awful reality until the danger had passed. Until the war was over.

But Serenity was the ruler of a country. She had responsibilities on her shoulders and lives in her hands. Besides, it was too late to hide.

War had already come knocking on their door.

* * *

Much to her disbelief, Haruka found herself leaving the palace walls of her own volition not three days later. The next day she went into the city again.

She didn't like it, but the need to _do_ something, anything, was clawing at her insides, keeping her feet restless. No matter how much she ran within the palace walls, the feeling would not yield, not even slightly. The only option was to seek another solution, preferably before the soles of her feet peeled off.

Her feet brought her to the only familiar, neutral place she knew in the city: the library. On her first return visit, she felt as though her stomach was twisting itself into knots. But though Setsuna was welcoming and warm, she left swiftly and quietly when Haruka found the books she was looking for.

Haruka stayed in the stacks for hour after hour, reading books about economics, history, diplomacy, and war. Only when she was buried between the pages of books did the fire within her dwindle, so she kept coming back.

Besides, the studious silence of the library was better than the tension-filled one at home. Smiles had become scarce, and laughter, once abundant, now rarely echoed through the marble halls. Serenity became more worn and brittle as it became apparent that the Earth king's hostilities couldn't be soothed with diplomacy. There was only one option he would take, and that was war.

Two weeks after the afternoon beside the pond with Serenity – and a week and a half of library visits – Serenity was forced to tell the public the truth.

When the people saw their queen behind the podium, they saw only her grave-faced advisors standing behind her. They did not see the queen's children standing backstage, her hidden support. They did not see the tears that began to fall the moment Serenity left the stage. They did not see the way she hugged her children to her, and the way they clustered together, young and quivering and alive. They did not see that making that announcement, after nearly two centuries of peace, had torn something away from Serenity, something beautiful and light and golden. Something that would never heal.

Remembering that terrible day from the privacy of the stacks, Haruka blinked back tears, feeling her throat burn. She pressed her forehead into the heels of her hands. What were they going to do? Everything was so desperately wrong, she could not see how they would ever be right again.

"Are you okay?" a soft voice asked, and Haruka looked up with a start, hoping it was not too obvious she'd been crying.

It was Setsuna, a faint line creasing the skin between her dark, bold eyebrows.

"I . . ." Haruka began, before her voice trailed off. What was she supposed to say?

But Setsuna waited. She didn't force the words from Haruka, and she didn't show any impatience.

"No," Haruka finally said, truthfully. Her voice was hollow.

"Me neither," Setsuna said, surprising her. She sat next to Haruka on the floor, ignoring the wrinkles that were sure to form in her skirt. Her eyes lost focus as she stroked the cover of a book, not really seeing it. "My sister has signed up for the army. She wants me to complete my librarian education, to stay safe . . . but I don't want to be safe while she's out there. Fighting."

"I'm sorry," Haruka whispered. It was such an inadequate thing to say, but it was all she had.

"Me too," Setsuna said, so quietly that it was hardly there at all.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Setsuna was once again behind the librarian's desk. "Good morning," she said, her voice as smooth and rich as honey.

"Good morning," Haruka replied, and such were the times that she was surprised at the cheerfulness in her own voice. As the weeks passed, she'd opened up to Setsuna, gradually enough that she hadn't realized it was happening until she was almost as comfortable around the librarian as she was around her sisters.

"Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to be unprofessional. It just seemed like you were going through something similar, and I just thought . . ." Setsuna's voice trailed off, her brows furrowing in apology.

"No, it's fine," Haruka said firmly, hoping Setsuna didn't doubt her sincerity. "I understand. I was in a dark mood yesterday." Her jaw twisted as she remembered her breakdown. "My family hasn't been the same since the announcement."

"Likewise," Setsuna said, sounding as though she was forcing her tone to be light. "Anyways, I was wondering – and maybe this _is_ unprofessional – if you'd like to come with me to an open-air concert tonight? A friend of mine is performing and she gave me tickets."

Haruka felt her heart swell. Maybe their friendship would never go farther than this, but she was willing to try. "Yes, I'd love to go. Thanks for thinking of me."

"Of course. Meet me here at six thirty tonight, and we can walk over together?" Setsuna's eyes were shining, and it occurred to Haruka she had never seen the librarian-in-training so excited before.

Haruka couldn't keep her sunbeam smile from spreading across her face. "Yes," she said.

* * *

Haruka left the palace that night quietly and without fuss. Everyone was too concerned with actual issues to pay much attention to where she was. This didn't bother her as much she would have thought. A war was much more important than one teenage girl.

The walk to the concert with Setsuna passed quickly, thanks to the easy conversation that flowed between them. They talked about books, their families – Haruka was purposely vague on this topic – their dreams and hobbies. They were careful to stay away from the subject of the war, but it lingered heavily in the background, as it always seemed to.

Then they arrived at the concert. The soft, paling light warmed the faces of the attendees, who were milling around, chatting quietly and snacking before the event began. Haruka could feel the familiar weight of anxiety lurking in her stomach, but she tried to distract herself. She focused on the impromptu stage and its blue velvet curtains, the flickering candles in their spherical glasses, on sampling the little snacks with Setsuna.

There was an assortment of acts performing: everything from pianists to singers to drummers. In the beginning she was rapt, but as time passed her mind started to wander. After all, one flautist sounded much like another.

Then, in the lull between acts, as Haruka was counting the stars above the square, Setsuna gently elbowed her in the side.

"My friend is going next," she whispered eagerly in Haruka's ear. Haruka pulled her gaze away from the night sky and refocused it on next performer entering the stage, curious as to the identity of Setsuna's friend.

Her heart stopped.

Setsuna's friend was the blue-haired violinist.

 _Michiru_.

Haruka's heart went into overdrive, as if it was trying to make up for its brief moment of stunned inactivity. Her skin flushed with warmth, and her head swam. _Look at me._

But Michiru was settling her violin on her shoulder and didn't look into the audience. Once again, she performed with her eyes closed, which made Haruka feel both relieved and anxious at the same time. The flurry of conflicting emotions in her stomach rendered her incapable of fully listening to the music, but nevertheless, the climax of the song made the delicate hairs on her skin stand up and a shiver go down her spine.

The enthusiastic applause of the audience matched the thumping of Haruka's pulse.

"Come on," Setsuna said, standing, as the clapping began to recede. "Let's go congratulate her."

"What?" Haruka asked, her anxiety flaring. Setsuna just smiled and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her through the throng of people. Michiru's had been the last performance, and a crowd formed as the concert-goers stood to leave. Setsuna didn't let go of Haruka once, though she half-wished she would, just so she could would have an excuse not to talk to Michiru.

They ducked behind the stage into a little makeshift room where the musicians had prepared for their performances. Michiru was there, packing up her violin, but she looked up when Setsuna called her name.

Michiru and Haruka's eyes locked, and Haruka felt that rush of possibility, familiar though she'd experienced it only once before.

Setsuna gave her compliments to Michiru, then introduced Haruka.

"Your performance was beautiful," Haruka said, adrenaline making her bold.

"Thanks," Michiru said. Her smile was slight, but radiant all the same. "It's nice to officially meet you." She extended a hand.

Her choice of words did not slip past Haruka. The fact that Michiru remembered her made her beam.

"You too," she said. When she shook Michiru's hand, a rush of sparks flew up her arm.

"I can't stay long: my mother is expecting me home. But thank you for coming," Michiru said, her gaze flitting between Setsuna and Haruka.

"Maybe I'll see you around," Haruka said. She felt as though there was liquid courage pulsing through her veins, making her dizzy and euphoric, intoxicated by life. The feeling increased tenfold when Michiru's cheeks flushed and she replied:

"I hope so."


	7. Chapter 7

Two months had passed and so had any hope that the conflict was just a colossal misunderstanding that could still be resolved peacefully. The Earth king simply wouldn't back down from his demands: thousands of acres of Lunar land and its resources. Serenity would not, could not, back down. That land belonged to the people, not a wealthy and privileged king.

The day Serenity deployed the first Lunar troops and sent them to Earthen soil, Haruka stood beside her at the window, watching the spaceships depart and sail tranquilly through the void of space. Serenity dug a fist into her heart as they watched, as if she already felt the loss of the lives taken. Haruka leaned into her, feeling as though a chasm was opening up inside of him.

* * *

One dreary, slow afternoon at the library, Haruka found herself in a previously unexplored corner of the stacks. Normally she would be buzzing with curiosity and anticipation over what she might discover, but that was not the case today. She was weary, fatigued from stress, and simultaneously desperate to escape her head but too firmly unbothered to put in the effort. Such was her frame of mind she daydreamed about getting lost in the stacks – swaddled in peace, quiet, and books – until the war was over.

Haruka's eyes passed listlessly over a gap in a shelf, perhaps caused by a book that had been pushed to the back. She almost walked past, before deciding to tidy the shelf and save Setsuna the trouble.

It took a fair bit of wiggling to reclaim the book. It would seem no one had read it for quite some time. For some reason she could not name, she didn't immediately re-shelve it; instead, she hefted the weight of it in her hands. The cover was leather, worn velvety with age and use. There was no author named, and even more strangely, there was no title.

Haruka would have felt stupid admitting this – after all, it was just a book – but she couldn't help but feel compelled to read it. There was something about this book, almost as though . . .

She shook her head as if she could shake that ridiculous thought right out. Now she _was_ being stupid. But nevertheless, she delicately peeled the cover open and began to read.

* * *

Oh stars. This could be the answer to everything.

Then another thought occurred to her. Had Serenity known all this time? How could she have kept it from them?

* * *

"Serenity!" Haruka said, bursting into the room. Just as she'd guessed, Serenity was on her favorite terrace, the one that overlooked the city. Serenity straightened in her chair, alarmed by Haruka's urgent tone and the wild look in her eyes.

Haruka waved the book in Serenity's face. "Did you know about this?" she demanded, her words tumbling from her mouth, her cheeks flushed with incredulity.

"Know about what?" Serenity asked warily, her eyebrows furrowing tightly.

Haruka deftly flipped the book open to a bookmarked page. She placed her finger beneath the start of a passage and began to read. " _In times of calamity, the Lunar princess will draw a circle of guardians to her, individuals who will protect the princess until their very last breath. These guardians will always be those closest to the princess, even before a sister, a lover, or her own mother. The current monarch of Luna will bestow elemental powers and a patron planet upon these guardians."_ Haruka's voice grew stronger as her fury reached its peak. _"They will devote their life to their sacred duty, unable to marry, acquire a profession, or grow a family."_

She slammed the book shut. She knew she was one of these guardians. Finding this book wasn't a coincidence.

Despair rolled over her, like a suffocating wave. She would never have her own life. With a pang, she thought of Michiru, who she could never be with in any meaningful, lasting way.

"Have you known about this all along? Is this why you adopted me? Adopted the girls? Does the princess know?" The questions surged from deep within, desperate but relentless.

Serenity took a careful, steady breath. "Yes, I knew about this. When the princess was born, I could feel the presence of her guardians. Minako, Ami, Rei and Makoto were brought to the palace at a young age to grow up alongside Serenity." She held up a hand as she saw Haruka's mouth snap open, anticipating her outcry. "They weren't forcibly taken from their parents, Haruka. They were given up willingly, and you know I love them – and you – as much as I do Serenity."

That was enough to tide over Haruka's outburst for the moment, though she was still bristling.

"What about me? Am I the only one you didn't 'forcibly take'?"

Serenity's placating demeaner slipped, and Haruka saw real uncertainty and doubt lurking on her face. "No," she whispered, her eyes wide and glassy. "There were three more."

"Three _more_?" Haruka demanded, feeling like the very foundation of her world was crumbling. Everything she thought she knew were half-truths, hiding secrets in their murky depths.

"I didn't think there was any real threat," Serenity said, shaking her head, knotting her fingers in her lap. "I wanted you to have normal lives."

"But here I am anyway." Haruka was scathing.

"I knew you were in trouble," Serenity shot back, fiery. "I could feel your pain constantly. I couldn't abandon you." Some of the venom faded from her voice. "You are my child, even if we don't share the same blood. My only regret is that I didn't save you sooner."

That halted Haruka's next outburst. She owed Serenity so much, and even in her most furious moment, she couldn't deny it. She huffed with frustration, but let the manic energy drain from her limbs without a fight.

"So, what's next?" she muttered.

"I think you already know," Serenity said. Regret was wrought into every feature of her face. "The Sailor Guardians must be assembled."


	8. Chapter 8

_The Sailor Guardians must be assembled._

The words rang through Haruka's head, momentarily silencing every other thought with the meaning behind those syllables. But only for a moment.

"But how will we find them?" she asked, frowning. There were thousands of people living in the capitol alone. Even with Serenity's strange ability, how long would it take to reach them, tell them that their destiny had been decided for them sixteen years ago, and convince them to leave behind everything they'd ever known?

The other guardians are closer than you think," Serenity said blithely, mysteriously even. Haruka had the strange sense of déjà vu, as if she were suddenly reverted back to her childhood self and once again believed that Serenity knew everything.

"What do you mean?" she asked warily.

Serenity leaned forward and clasped Haruka's hands. Her eyes were boring into Haruka's, pushing her to see what was already apparent to her.

"You already know them."

"Who?" she demanded.

"The Guardians of Pluto and Neptune," Serenity intoned, her eyes losing focus, as if she could see them standing in front of her. "You know them as Setsuna and Michiru."

* * *

A ceremony was held to bestow their patron planet and title. It was really just a formality, as Haruka had been born with her role just as she'd been born with blue eyes. It was an innate part of her, something she'd realized and was slowly, very slowly, learning to accept.

As a wrinkled priest droned on about their responsibilities, Haruka looked out over the throne room, at its elegant, stately architecture and the people gathered in it. It was a small crowd, admittedly, a fact Haruka was grateful for, composed mostly of high-ranking officials and nobles of the court. Still, it was unnerving to be put on display like this, standing at the center of the room with the other Guardians in a looping semicircle.

Her fingers brushed against the skirt of her new uniform, which still felt stiff and unfamiliar against her skin. Her eyes shifted habitually to her left, where Michiru was standing, her turquoise curls sleek for the occasion. Her skin was pale, but her dark eyes were resolute. Looking at her was enough to escape the unpleasantness of the situation.

As if feeling Haruka's eyes on her, Michiru let her fingers drift away from her thigh, just enough to allow their skin to touch. Slowly, carefully, Haruka hooked her index finger into the crook of Michiru's pinky.

Their hands remained linked like that, hidden behind the fold of their skirts, for the rest of the ceremony. Haruka had to hold back her smile for a very long time.

* * *

Once the priests had said their part, it was time for the Guardians to recite their vows. Each of them – beginning with Ami – had to kneel before the princess and swear loyalty to her. Then Queen Serenity granted their new title.

Haruka was the fifth in line, and she was grateful for the chance to stretch her legs after standing, stationary, for so long. She climbed the steps of the dais two at a time, focusing on the clear, ringing sound of her heeled boots on the marble.

Dutifully, she knelt at the princess' feet, but not before she saw the wan, drawn lines of her face. Haruka felt a flush of guilt. She'd been so caught up in her own troubles she hadn't even spared a thought as to what her little sister must be feeling. Traditions that were hundreds of years old were forcing her family to devote the rest of their lives to serve her. The guilt was plain on her face.

Haruka said her oaths without defiance, her mind turning over and over again. The vows were also centuries old, and despite their flowery language, Haruka saw them as what they were: bullshit. No tradition, or prayer, or even these vows were going to dictate her life. She made the choice right there, looking into a face too young for so much shame. She was going to protect Serenity until her last breath if that was what was necessary. But not because some pompous old text told her to. Because she loved her sister.

Haruka allowed the echoes of her voice to fade from the cavernous room before she stood. As she did so, she caught the princess' gaze and winked. It was so quick and subtle that no one besides Serenity could have seen it, but it did the trick. Some of the heaviness lifted from her face, and her eyes brightened. Haruka stifled a triumphant grin and moved to stand before the larger, more ornate throne.

The elder Serenity looked queenlier today than Haruka had ever seen her before. But despite the pearlescent dress and delicate silver diadem, the mix of emotion in her eyes was all too human. It was a dizzying combination of love and guilt, pride and a plea for forgiveness.

Had she not had her back to the audience, she wouldn't have dared to be so familiar with her monarch, but Serenity was her _mother_ , and what was more, she had never meant to hurt Haruka. She hadn't chosen this life for her. So, Haruka made her peace, then and there, and gave Serenity a tiny smile. At this, some of the worry in Serenity's eyes lessened.

She knelt once more, and felt Serenity's fingers brush, feather-light, across the crown of her bowed head.

"You have been chosen by the stars to protect this Lunar princess, daughter of the goddess Selene. You have pledged unflinching loyalty, and in acknowledgement of your sacrifice, Selene graces upon you the gift of the wind, and all its domain. She has also allotted you the gift of a planet. Do you accept and receive this trade?"

"Yes," Haruka said. For such a tiny word, it held so much power.

"Then it is my honor to proclaim you Sailor Uranus, guardian of the wind."

Serenity withdrew her hand as the audience broke into reserved applause. Haruka rose to her feet, feeling as though she had just confronted destiny and come out on the winning side.

Fate may not have given her a fair hand, but she would still make it a winning one.


	9. Chapter 9

Life did go on, even when it was impossible to imagine a future. Four months had passed since the ceremony, two months of fruitless bloodshed and no foreseeable change in tactic. Haruka had expected that receiving their titles would spur some secret plan into action, but so far, the Sailor Guardians had just played at being pretty faces.

Until one day, when a knock sounded on Haruka's bedroom door. He straightened to his full height, pushing off the windowsill, allowing himself one last glance at the tranquil gardens far below.

He crossed the room in two quick strides and swung open the door to look into the young, smooth face of a royal messenger. The child snapped to attention, clicking his heels together in respect.

"Good afternoon. Her Majesty, Queen Serenity, has requested that you join her on the grand terrace for a meeting."

Haruka's limbs began to tingle with suppressed energy. "Thank you," he managed, before he was halfway down the hallway, hoping with everything in him that this terrible waiting period was over and he could finally help.

"Haruka!" he heard a woman call, and he paused, though his momentum carried him forward an extra step. He turned to see Minako hurrying down the corridor after him, her usual carefree expression twisted with anxiety. It didn't suit her, and Haruka hated it. He hated this helpless feeling, especially when it came to the people that he cared about.

"Do you know what's happened?" Mina asked, wringing her hands. Her signature scarlet bow was askew, and there were shadows in her eyes.

"Don't worry yet," Haruka advised, slipping easily back into the role of the big brother. "We don't know what the news is."

Mina didn't relax in the slightest, so wordlessly, Haruka held out his hand.

Holding Mina's hand meant moving more slowly through the palace, but Haruka could make amends with that. By the time they reached the terrace, everyone was already assembled. Ami, her eyes slightly unfocused and her fingers tapping at her leg, as if she were completing calculations in her head. Makoto and the younger Serenity, leaning into each other, the princess' golden buns just barely grazing Mako's chin. Setsuna's expression was blank, though her stance was resolute, while Rei's eyes were resolute and her stance uncertain. Michiru had been waiting for Haruka to arrive, and as her eyes fell on him, her posture relaxed.

The elder Serenity, of course, was standing at the center, the planetary force that they all orbited around. She was poised in a practiced way, as though she had grown accustomed to the monumental weight of the burden she was forced to carry.

She didn't greet them with a 'hello,' or a similar pleasantry. They knew each other too well for that.

"The council and I have come up with a course of action," she announced. "Our best astronomers have realized that the source of the violence we're currently facing is from an alien force."

"How can you know?" Ami asked.

"Recently, they've documented an unusual number of dark flares from our sun," Serenity explained steadily. She looked as though she were bracing herself. "They believe that the flares are probably the source of this malevolent being."

"What do you want us to do?" Haruka spoke up, surprised at the strength in his voice.

Looking at him, Serenity seemed to become uncertain. "They – we – have agreed that three of the Sailor Guardians must be sent to guard the edges of the solar system."

And he was one of them. He could tell by looking into Serenity's face, by assessing her uneasy body language. "Where are our posts?" he asked, and this time he was not surprised by the composure in his words. This had already been decided; no number of tantrums or whining were going to free him of this duty.

"On your patron planets," Serenity said, her voice cracking. Her gaze bounced away, touching on both Setsuna and Michiru – the other two choices. It was the older Guardians who had been chosen, the ones who the war council would assume to be less attached to the princess.

"What about us?" Rei spoke up, her raven hair dancing through the breeze and her eyes fiery.

Serenity exhaled carefully. "You, along with Mina, Ami, and Mako, will be staying here, at the palace, to protect the princess from closer quarters."

The younger Serenity was pale, but a muscle in her jaw was clenched. Her very existence was being discussed as though she were a commodity. As though she were a particularly precious possession to be kept away from danger, yes, but also from life. She stepped away from Mako's embrace, away from her mother's side, her friends and family parting for her so that she could reach Haruka. Silently, she threw her arms around his neck, and silently, she began to cry. He held her tightly, his nose pressing into her forehead, and inhaled her familiar scent, just as he had done many years ago, after one particularly frightening game of hide and seek. Though he knew what he had to do, he couldn't help but wish that everything could go back to the way it had been.

Nothing's going to be the same again, he thought, and he was right.

* * *

Not many people came to see them off. The Sailor Guardians were elite soldiers, and had a unique connection to the royal family. As such, they were somewhat removed from the public eye. Those assembled were solely the members of Haruka's family, the war council – who had concocted this plan – nowhere to be seen. They had gathered in the grand foyer of the palace, usually just a waystation for other, better places. Now it was to be the setting of the end of an era, and the beginning of another.

Haruka was already struggling not to cry, having said his goodbyes to Mina, Rei, Ami, Mako, and Princess Serenity. But before the elder Serenity sent them off, she turned to an ornate, mahogany table, where three objects were lying, concealed under a long stretch of white cloth. Carefully, she drew the fabric away, revealing the mystery items.

"These are the talismans that were crafted for the Sailor Guardians hundreds of years ago," she said, her eyes firmly focused on the talismans. "They are as old as the Lunar crown, and will aid you in your task. This is for Setsuna, Sailor Pluto." Serenity lifted a slender silver scepter and handed it to Setsuna. "It's named the Garnet Rod."

"For Michiru, Sailor Neptune – the Deep Aqua Mirror," Serenity murmured, passing a delicate hand mirror to Michiru. Michiru thanked her, and ran a gloved finger along the mirror's filigree.

"And for Haruka, Sailor Uranus," Serenity said, the slightest quiver in her voice. "The Space Sword." She picked up the last talisman, a saber with a curved, gleaming blade and a sapphire-blue gem set into its cross guard.

Haruka accepted the gift, hefting the weight of it in his hands. It was lighter than he had expected, and fit naturally in his palm, but all the same he hoped that he would never have to use it.

Now they had no more excuses to delay. It was time to go. The moment Haruka had tried not to imagine had arrived nonetheless, and it was messy with tears and sorrow.

Somewhere in the melee of hugs and good wishes, Haruka found Serenity, and fell into her embrace, never wanting to let go, never wanting to leave her.

"You loved me unconditionally," he whispered, voice thick with tears. "Even though I wasn't yours."

"Wrong," she half-laughed, voice just as thick. "You were always mine. Even before I knew your name."

She was the first person to open her heart to him, to support and love him, and that was worth so much. So much more than he could ever express. This sacrifice, this separation, was nothing compared to the generosity she had shown for a hurt and misunderstood child, and for all the laughter and joy that had arisen since.

Serenity pulled away, though she kept a firm grasp on his hands, and as Haruka looked at her, he cast his mind back to her appearance at the time of their first meeting. Perhaps her face was a little more lined now, and her hair a little more silver, but her beauty had not diminished, and neither had the expression of compassion and grief in her eyes.

"May the stars watch over you," she whispered, her voice raw. "I love you, Haruka."

"I love you too," he whispered, the words struggling to circumnavigate the lump in his throat.

That was the last time he would ever see her.

* * *

They walked out to the gardens, hand in hand, vision blurry. It felt fitting that this was where they were leaving, the most beautiful place on Luna. Haruka had so many happy memories in these gardens, and now they were going to send him off to the great unknown.

They had practiced this method of transportation once before, by teleporting across a room. The book Haruka had found in the library had given them instructions on how to do it. But what if it didn't work now?

The answer was instantaneous, and easy. If they couldn't go to their patron planets, then they'd have to stay on Luna. A tiny part of Haruka hoped that this would be the case, but he did his best to squash that voice. They had to go. People were depending on them.

He took a steadying breath as the three of them came to a halt. They rearranged themselves so that they were standing in a circle, their hands remaining linked. On Haruka's left was Michiru; on his right was Setsuna.

On the tree behind Setsuna was an apple, not quite ripe. Absently, he wondered who would be the one to eat it.

Haruka pushed the thought away, refocusing his mind. He closed his eyes, and the world disappeared in darkness. To do this, he had to summon his elemental power: the wind. He reached for it, deep inside of him, but he could feel nothing but the air filling his lungs. Please work, he thought. He wracked his brain desperately for a solution, then remembered some advice that Serenity had given him. Changing tacks, he thought about what is was like to run, to feel the wind sweep across his skin and whisk away his worries. To feel totally in control of himself, mind and body.

And there it was, only a whisper at first, gradually building in intensity. Within seconds, it was rushing out of him, tirelessly, endless, eternally – the wind. His hands pulsed with the power that was coming from Michiru and Setsuna, and he thought of his destination: Uranus.

His body became weightless, and he felt the horrible sensation of spinning, falling. But he kept his eyes tightly closed, ignoring the bursts of pressure and streaks of light that he could see through his eyelids. Then, the worst sensation of all: the feeling of fingers torn from his.

All of this only lasted for a few seconds, but it felt endless. Timeless. When Haruka had regained control of his body and opened his eyes, he was flat on his back on the floor of a palace.

Alone.


	10. Chapter 10

He spent what was probably a few hours roaming the castle, exploring. As he was soon to learn, time had no meaning when you were truly alone and all there was to do was wait. It could have been a few hours, or a few minutes. By the end of his self-led tour, he had confirmed that this palace was like any other – unnecessarily large and ornate – though it was far grandiose than the Lunar palace was. It felt like a hollow echo of home.

Eventually, he returned in the room he had woken up in, which he assumed was the control room. It contained quite a lot of panels – which were crowded with buttons and levers – a scarred, wooden table, and windows. Lots of windows. The glass on each of them was most likely as thick as his forearm was long, but the view available through them was sharp and defined.

Uranus, despite being his patron planet, was not very interesting to look at. Unlike the Earth, it was composed solely of gas, which was evidenced by the dense swirls of fog that choked the lower windows. However, the majority of the glass was located above Haruka's head, and it provided a breath-taking view of the stars. They made Haruka's eyes burn. Though they seemed close enough to touch, he knew they were far, far beyond his reach.

Haruka sprawled out on the table, which was only slightly more comfortable than the stone floor had been. He tried to distract himself from his misery with questions about his predecessors. How many had there been? How many had stayed here? What were their names? How much time had they spent looking up at the stars like this?

Pondering the answers to these questions did take his mind away for a while – two minutes, twenty, who could say? – but it was only a matter of time before he circled back to his raw heart and his memories of the people he loved. He felt as though he was drowning on his despair, choking on it. His rational mind had given up, allowing himself to be lost to a sea of sorrow. Eventually, sleep overtook him, calming his frantic mind, if only for a short while.

* * *

It took everything in her to hold onto her sanity. Everything to distract herself with meaningless little tasks to keep her mind from slipping into grief and hopelessness. But it was so, so hard. It was the hardest thing she had ever done or would do. It was physically and mentally exhausting, and top of that was the strain of maintaining the shield: a slow and constant drain on her energy. The barrier was supposed to be protecting the solar system from any more aliens, but to be honest, Haruka couldn't really tell if it was working or not.

So she raced in the empty, lonely hallways, played card games with herself, wrote little stories in her head, even, once, composed an elaborate daydream of her and Michiru's wedding. And still, no news of what was happening. In fact, as the time stretched like putty, and still no word came, Haruka began to grow angry. She had made an enormous sacrifice for her family and her country, and no one could be bothered to talk to her? To tell her what was happening, or even ask how she was?

But the anger was good. In the back of her mind she knew that, and thus held onto it. The anger was a distraction, a place for her mind to go besides idleness and depression.

Until one day, when she stopped being angry.

* * *

The first day of the end of her life had began like any other: slipping out of the comforting numbness of sleep and remembering, with a jolt, where she was. Shuddering, she pushed away the emotional half of her brain and swung herself out of her cot.

Haruka spent perhaps forty minutes sprinting through the castle, pushing the limits of her body. She was running so fast that the reflexive tears were streaming down her face, and she was climbing stairs five steps at a time.

Having shed the grogginess of sleep, she ate breakfast, a nutritional, if bland, ration packet. She checked all of the controls and levers in the control room, ensuring that they were all where they needed to be. The barrier was still in place, as evidenced by the familiar ache in her muscles.

She played some card games, each round blurring in her memory. She read a book she had brought from Luna, the one that Ami had given her – even as the memory surfaced, she'd buried it again. She considered having a nap before she ate her next meal.

It was just as Haruka decided to go running again that a sudden pain drove into her chest. She gasped, falling to her knees. It felt as though a knife had been thrust into her heart, but she could tell, even through her black-tinged and spotted vision, that nothing had touched her. No blood stained her pristine uniform. But the agony kept on coming, wave after colossal wave of it, until she dimly thought she might lose consciousness.

But then the grief roared out from the depths of her being, and the pain was nothing compared to that emotion, which was so great that grief didn't even begin to describe it. It was a thousand terrible, deplorable emotions which had no name, and which had Haruka heaving for air.

She lay there on the concrete floor, wheezing, twisted tight with pain, and sobbing unbearably. Something was very, very wrong, and she knew what it was. She knew with the certainty that only a Sailor Guardian could have. It was the knowledge that she had failed in her duty.

Princess Serenity – her little sister – was dead.


	11. Chapter 11: Final Chapter!

Haruka slipped in and out of consciousness, like a fisherman trying to grasp the slippery scales of their catch. The pain rocked into her again and again, leaving her body a little weaker each time. The grief, however, the gut-wrenching horror and despair, didn't give her such respite. It was a gaping hole inside of her, baring the darkest parts of her being, and its agony was never-ceasing, eternal. It did more than fog her brain: it reduced her to a crazed, wild state.

Instinct alone prompted her to finally open her eyes. Doing so took a monumental effort, akin to heaving a boulder up a hill. When she had somewhat succeeded, the dull, familiar scenery of the control room swam in her gaze.

Standing before Haruka, where she was hunched on the concrete, was a girl with severe black bangs and dark eyes. A bell of recognition rang in Haruka's head, though at first her muddled brain believed it was because the girl was wearing a Sailor Guardian uniform.

But no, she slowly realized. She had seen that face before. It was the girl who had been staring at Haruka the day she had discovered the library, and met Setsuna. But why was she wearing that uniform?

This was too much Haruka's mind and unconsciousness claimed her once more.

When she woke up again, her head was throbbing, and the girl – the Sailor Guardian – was kneeling before her. She laid an icy hand on Haruka's cheek, a curious look in her eyes. Not pity, exactly, because she was unsurprised at this turn of events. But there was a softness there, hiding behind the veneer of rigidity.

As Haruka fought to recall a memory that was winking at the back of her mind, the Guardian stood up. It was then that Haruka noticed the staff she held in her hand; it had two, gleaming blades balanced at its tip.

What was it that Serenity had said? Haruka's head spun with the effort of remembering.

The Guardian shifted the pole delicately between her fingertips and it began to fall, its blades slicing cleanly through the air.

Didn't she say that there were three _other_ Guardians? Michiru and Setsuna were two, so that left . . .

The staff completed its revolution, now inverted. A flash of white light, and then –

There was nothing.

* * *

The sky was a shocking, glorious shade of blue, a handful of wispy clouds timidly strewn across it. The sun was high in the sky, caressing his skin and casting everything soft and bright.

The smell of exhaust filled the air, along with the honking of horns and a multitude of human voices. He felt the whistling air of passing cars as they matched pace on the cracked pavement, hands linked.

He looked over to his left, meeting rich, dark eyes. She was more solemn now than before, but she was still the same woman he'd fallen in love with, in all the ways that really mattered. He couldn't help his smile, and a tiny quirk tugged at the corners of her lips, her gaze warming. She shook out her turquoise hair – the strands shimmering in the afternoon sun – and in the simple motion, he read her determination. Even after all these centuries, their plan remained the same, their goals simple.

Then a whisper told him to look away, and so he did, his gaze magnetically drawn to a blond girl farther down the sidewalk. She was small and slight, though bouncing with the force of her enthusiasm, and was chattering with four other teenage girls. They filed into the Crown Arcade, the blond girl the last to enter. For a moment, her leaping step faltered, and she hesitated, as though she could feel the young man's gaze. But then she shook the feeling away, her twin buns echoing her chastisement, and the door closed behind her.

Haruka's spine lengthened, drawing him to his full height, and he felt resolve pump through his veins.

The wind ran cool, comforting fingers along his neck.

Much had been lost. His lingering grief was testament to that. But the universe had given them another chance to remake their destiny, and he would not let it go to waste. He _could_ not let it go to waste.

This time, he would have a happy ending. They all would.

And Haruka stepped into the arcade.


End file.
